


Wish You Were Here

by KingOfHearts709



Category: Pink Floyd
Genre: Angst, Depression, Fighting, High School, Hospitalisation, M/M, Marijuana, Over-protectiveness, Self-Hatred, Smoking, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, pink floyd - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 12:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17560367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfHearts709/pseuds/KingOfHearts709
Summary: TLS - SIAFB - YAY





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW for talks of self-harm here:  
> Hello.  
> So, this was originally a story I wrote as a self-indulgence. It was originally me and Dan Avidan, since I had no other characters I was working with at the time. In short, it was Game Grumps fic.  
> I decided to change the names of the characters and a bit of the other bits of plot so I could make it more realistic.  
> The reason I put the fandom as 'Pink Floyd' is because it's the main reason I had written this story. I listened to Wish You Were Here so many times while I sat behind the tennis courts by myself with a cigarette wondering why I didn't just jump off a cliff while my leg bled through my bandages because I didn't have an outlet.  
> It was the only thing that kept me grounded sometimes because I wanted to just stop existing so badly, I wanted to meet someone who would make it so my life could be worth it all for the pain I got put through by others and myself. So I wrote this as an alternate reality where I met Dan, and he got me through the pain I was feeling. And it helped.  
> Anyways. If AO3 takes this down for not being a real fanfiction, I might just repost it in its original format with myself and Dan as the main characters instead. As long as the message gets through. No one's alone.

Maybe he just had to admit that he was royally  _ fucked up.  _ Or maybe he could convince himself that he was okay for just a little while longer until he could find time to fix himself.

For now, though, Ave found himself indulging in ice cream and suppressing his emotion as he watched Simpson reruns. And fuck, was he  _ depressed. _

His friends hated each other. They could never agree on anything, and Ave’d be lying if he said he didn't try to fix their friendship  _ every _ time he could. However, a few hours ago had been the last straw for him.

“Guys,  _ stop _ yelling at each other!” he pressed towards his friends, both of whom were in a heated argument.

“She doesn't leave me alone!” the first yelled. “Even when I asked her to  _ shut _ up!”

“Yeah, well, he was the one that was complaining about  _ never _ getting help!” the second retaliated.

“Jesus  _ fucking  _ Christ, both of you need to shut the  _ fuck up!”  _ Ave screamed at the top of his lungs, in the middle of a park, no less. “I just can't be your mediator for this shit anymore! I'm not gonna be friends with  _ either _ of you if you keep fighting over stupid shit that can be solved by  _ someone  _ giving in! And I sure as hell can't do it for you!” Both simply looked at Ave, then at each other. The second rolled her eyes.

“I think it's fucked up that Ave has to keep doing this,” the second told the first.

“All I did was ask him,” the second replied. “He didn't have to come.”

“Why did you ask him, then?”

“So we wouldn't  _ fight!” _

“Well,  _ obviously, _ it's not working!” Then, Ave just snapped.

“That's fucking _it!”_ he cried, nearly on the brink of tears because _God,_ he could not _do_ this anymore. “I am not talking to either of you anymore until you make up! If not, then _fuck_ if I know when I'll talk again!” And he found himself storming away from the playground, various children eyeing him as he kicked a tree, and ignored his now stubbed toe.

That was what dragged Ave from bad to worse. He knew he wasn't going to sleep, and he didn't  _ care _ if he threw up from the sugar he's had nonstop. If he could just do  _ anything, _ smoke, drink, jump off a building, he'd feel better, or at least numb.

Instead, all he had left was his room and his sorry ass.

Slowly, he dragged himself from his bed, leaving the TV on as he trudged towards the bathroom.

He looked like  _ shit. _

His hair, short and black, was greasy and scruffed. He was still wearing his dark red hoodie that he hadn't taken off since yesterday. His eyes were bloodshot around his brown irises, making his skin look sullen and tired. His mouth parted just enough to show the damage done from his overbite.

No. He  _ was _ shit. The living entity of a  _ piece of shit. _

He grabbed the shaver from the drawer and plugged it in. His hair was getting long on the sides. He'd just shave the sides down to a nub, just enough to be manageable again.

He watched the hair fall into the sink, getting a second mirror to shave the back.

He felt like a new person.  _ Better. _

Maybe, if he could find it, he'd break out his old leather jacket from last Christmas and wear that everyday. Find his old spike belt and some fingerless gloves lying around from when his dad used to wear them. His mom had only just cleaned out the storage shed last week, he was bound to find  _ something _ to fit the person he was keen to become.

He'd wait until after dark, of course, to sift through the boxes as his mom slept. Snag a pack of cigarettes while he was there from her. Maybe test the liquor cabinet.

He was ready to fit his mood, because for him, there was no going back from this shitstorm.


	2. Chapter 2

Like all of his teachers, they expected him in button-ups and a backpack. Ave abandoned the latter at home, opting for only his jacket and jean pockets, armed with a lighter, cigarettes, a few dollars and a pencil. Like anyone checked. Like anyone  _ cared. _

“Hey- Ave?” someone said his name. He turned slowly. One of his...classmates, he supposed he'd call them. “You... You look...different.”

“Thanks,” he replied in the most nonchalant tone he had, before striding off again. He ignored the looks because, at this point, he didn't care. People could talk all they want. He was broken, anyways. He didn't _ care, _ anyways.

“Settle down,” his English teacher said as the bell rang. Ave decided he'd put his feet on an adjacent desk as he listened to the lecture, considering he'd neglected his books in his locker and came unprepared. Plus, he was in the back.  _ No one _ would care. “Ave, feet off the desk.” Ave scoffed in response. Well, no one but the  _ teacher. _

“What for?” he asked, hearing the angst in his own voice. Not like he was trying to suppress it.

“I'm sorry?”

“Why do I have to take my feet off, it's not a disruption or anything.” The teacher crossed his arms, crinkling his mustard-coloured polo.

“Last chance, Ave, or you're out,” he warned.

“I'm posing a valid question, I think I have a say in this-”

_“Out.”_ Ave scoffed again. At this, the door swung open and bounced off the wall as a tall, thick-jacketed student trudged into the classroom, his long mess of tangled curls bouncing around his relatively tanned white face. His hands were resting in his pockets, weight put onto one foot. Ave wasn’t sure who he was, but he saw somewhat of his own... _reflection_ in the student. Or at least what he wished his reflection _acted_ like.

“Hey, sorry, man,” he said to the teacher, sighing. “Got caught up.”

“You need a late pass, Dent,” the teacher replied.

“It's only been, like, what, a minute after?”

“Late pass, or would you like to join our other troublemaker in the office?” The teacher eyed Ave, making the so-called  look at him.

“What’d he do?” he asked.

“None of your business, and you've wasted enough of my damn time, now both of you are  _ leaving _ my class.” Ave groaned loudly, causing the class to laugh as you trudged out of the door after the student.

“Who, uh... Who’re you?” the student asked him as they walked off.

“Who’re you?” Ave replied.

“Hey, I asked you first.” Ave crossed his arms.

“Ave. And I guess your last name is Dent?”

“Liam’s what the kids call me. Teachers don't have the decency to address me properly.”

“They could at least put ‘mister’ in front of it.”

“Eh, who cares? He's followin’ ancient school rules, anyways. Late pass, my ass.” Ave laughed.

“You should put that on your gravestone.” Liam chuckled.

“Nah, then he wouldn't be able to see it. He'll be dead before me if I’m lucky.” He stopped walking and turned. “Anyways, since we're stuck alone together, how ‘bout we go and get Taco Bell or somethin’?”

“It's nine in the morning, man.”

“Yeah, and to be fair, ‘nine in the morning’ in Spanish is ‘taco in the morning’.”

“In German, it'd be ‘no in the morning’.”

“God, you’re like a linguist. Do you ever leave the house?”

“No. Like there's  _ anyone _ out here who cares.” Liam pat Ave's back, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“Hey, man. Give it enough time and maybe I'll care.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Why  _ did  _ you get kicked out, then?” Liam asked Ave as they waited in line at Taco Bell.

“I put my feet up and he just wasn’t having it,” Ave shrugged in response. They inched forward.

“Really?  _ Fuck, _ he’s just gettin’ more assholish by the day.”

“Tell me about it.” They reached the front of the line.

“Hey, Li,” the person behind the counter said. “Looks like you got kicked out again, then?”

“You know it,” Liam shrugged, leaning on the counter.

“What d’you want?”

“Just, like, six tacos, I guess?”

“You got it.” Ave watched as Liam set a crumpled bill onto the counter. He was tired as all hell, and being honest with himself, he didn’t really feel hungry, or happy. He felt trapped, like he was in a box, and Liam was the one he got  _ stuck _ with.

“I gotta get back to the school, Liam,” he said.

“What?” Liam scoffed. “What’re you goin’ back for?”

“Something about not getting in trouble and all that shit?”

“Doesn’t matter. You showed up, you got kicked out. They don’t  _ expect _ you to even go back for at least the rest of the day.”

“How many times has this happened to you?” Liam shrugged.

“Enough.” Ave sighed. He’d get his ass kicked for skipping class. At least, he assumed he would. It was always a half-and-half situation.  _ Someone _ would get pissed, and  _ someone _ would not care, and then  _ no one _ got to decide what happened, regardless of the  _ expectations. _

“You're not actually gonna go back, are you?” Liam asked him, hands in his pockets. Ave sighed again.

“Well,  _ apparently,  _ I'm not expected to, so I  _ guess _ not,” he shot back. “But I'm going back for my last class,  _ at the least.” _ He stressed his words, but Liam wasn't buying it. Apparently, he didn't buy  _ any _ word that came out of Ave's mouth.

_ “No, _ you're not. Just skip ‘em all. My house is empty, and I'm pretty sure I've got stuff to do that isn't  _ boring.” _ Now Liam stressed his words, but he did it well. Liam was an experienced troublemaker, and Ave was a mediocre shut-in. The two just wouldn't mix, or rather,  _ shouldn't _ mix. But where there was a leader, there was a follower. And Ave was most certain he couldn't lead Liam to do anything.

He was going to be stuck here for a while.

“Why should I even  _ listen _ to you?” Ave asked, exhausted, as he followed Liam to sit at one of the booths.

“‘Cause I know what I’m doing,” Liam replied, “and you,” a pointed finger at Ave as he sat down, “don’t.” Ave rolled his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest. A  _ very  _ long while.

Ave let Liam talk on and on about  _ whatever  _ this and  _ whatever  _ that, and Liam, being who he was, didn’t seem to notice that his audience wasn’t listening. In fact, Ave was ignoring him on purpose, instead trying to devise a strategy that didn’t get his ass kicked later on. He thought ahead, while Liam apparently didn’t think at  _ all. _

“Are you gonna eat or not?” Liam finally asked, taco shell remnants falling out of his mouth as he spoke. Ave grimaced at Liam and shook his head.

“Not hungry,” Ave told him.

“Not listening, either.” Ave blinked. “I don’t blame you. I get pretty boring,” he swallowed his bite, “pretty fast. I’m tellin’ you, though, I’ve got stuff at my house that’ll bring  _ up _ the mood.” Ave then knew why Liam so desperately wanted Ave to stay. Of  _ course. _

“You mean tree.” Liam snapped his fingers, as if to say,  _ That’s right! _ No wonder Liam was trying to keep him here, he wanted someone to go and get high with. Ave, being someone who hadn’t even seen weed in person before, visibly cringed, which Liam either missed or ignored.

“That’s exactly it, and seriously, man,” he stood, “I’m going to miss you if you  _ flake on me,” _ Liam hummed in a sing-song voice as he picked up his trash, jogging to the trashcan to throw it away. Ave, in that moment, would very nearly trade Liam for one of his other shitty friends, granted they weren’t fighting with him. But because of Liam’s persistence and Ave’s permissiveness, he was a follower once more.

Sometimes it felt like he was only good at two things: lying and following. And right now, he was doing both when he agreed to go to Liam’s house.


	4. Chapter 4

This could most likely be the  _ biggest  _ mistake Ave had ever made in his life. Actually, it probably was. And you know what they say about mistakes.

You learn from them.

And then they become a perfect mistake. So far, Liam was becoming what was most likely Ave’s  _ perfect  _ mistake. He would soon learn that weed was... Well, it was good, but...not. And he would learn that skipping school gave you opportunities, but also took some away. 

The only thing he found familiar was that Liam was an  _ entirely  _ different ballpark, no pros or cons.

Although, with almost every upside he was finding as he stepped into the house, he was finding a downside. And, man, did that really  _ suck.  _ Imagine having to accept the fact that with every good thing is also a bad thing. It was  _ not _ something Ave was used to.

“Home,” Liam said as he easily kicked off his shoes inside, stepping through the doorway. “It’s where the heart is.” Ave simply walked into the house, hands in his pockets, just  _ waiting _ for something to bite him in the ass. Mostly, he was just worried about Liam  _ betraying _ him.

“Okay...,” he replied slowly, not really sure what Liam was supposed to mean about where the ‘heart’ was. It didn’t look much like a home. It looked more like there was hardly any point in trying to  _ make _ it a home.

“Let’s go t’my room,” Liam said, nodding to the hallway. Ave followed him through the second door on the left, watching him fall down onto the bed. At least, he  _ assumed  _ it was a bed.

Liam’s room was more...practical than anything. Everything seemed within arm’s reach of the mattress. At least, everything that seemed important to him. Everything else looked far less used. Not to mention the walls were absolutely  _ covered  _ in posters. Ave was sure he hadn’t ever seen this many in one place.

A guitar lay in the corner, unused, as if he was given it, and then  _ never _ touched it after he put it there. Like Liam, the room was insane. But manageable.

“Gonna sit down, or...,” Liam said suddenly, and Ave snapped from glancing around. Ave nodded and sat down on the bed. A TV was set up at the foot of the bed. “Wanna play some Super Nintendo?” Ave shrugged indifferently. He was honestly wondering why Liam didn’t bother to get the N64. “Alright, well, what d’ _ you _ wanna do?”

“I don’t know,” Ave replied with a sigh. “What  _ is  _ there to do?” Liam clicked his tongue for a moment, then snapped his fingers and went to hang off the side of his bed. Ave watched as Liam’s mane of hair hung upside down, his hands searching for something that seemed to become increasingly more important by the second. “What’re you looking for?”

“Uh...,” Liam’s muffled voice came back, “Ah! This. I forgot about it.” Liam pulled himself back up and held a box in his hands. “You ever smoke before?” Ave only just then remembered why he was at Liam’s house. Liam wanted  _ him _ to hang out and get high, skipping school simultaneously. Ave only just  _ then _ regret defying his teacher.

Ave,  _ only just then _ , realised what an absolute fucking  _ idiot  _ he was.

“I...don’t...,” Ave decided to say, knowing full well that his statement wouldn’t cut through whatever deft plan Liam was devising.

“Man, I’m messin’ with you,” Liam laughed suddenly, pushing Ave as he did so. “I know you don’t. ‘s alright, this’ll serve as the test run.” Ave simply watched as Liam opened the box, then a bag, then  _ another  _ bag, and laid it all out on the nearby desk. From this angle, Ave couldn’t quite see what Liam was doing, but he assumed some crushing and rolling was happening.

God, was he  _ really  _ doing this? He was going to smoke weed with a guy he didn’t really know, and then he was going to be high. He’d already skipped class, then went somewhere unfamiliar. He still had cigarettes in his pocket, and he’d never even tried those. He didn’t know  _ what  _ he was doing.

“Hey, uh...,” Ave hummed from where he was sat, and Liam turned around. “It’s... I’ve never even tried cigarettes, I mean... How’m I supposed to...smoke  _ weed?” _ Liam laughed, holding a rolled joint in his hand.

“Uh... I don’t know, man,” Liam told him. “D’you  _ have _ any cigarettes?” Ave, albeit tentative, reached into his pocket to reveal the three cigarettes he had stolen from his mom. “Alright, uh... Well, let’s forget the tree for now, and we’ll do cigs real quick. Just to... _ ease _ you into it.” Liam chuckled as he held a lighter.

Ave wasn’t sure how he was managing underneath all this stress, but it couldn’t be any worse than, say,  _ dying. _ His mind was unexpectedly jumping through, around, and then  _ to _ conclusions. Weed was going to be fine. He was okay. But...what was going to  _ happen _ to him? Was  _ this _ who he was? Would he really trade listening to his other friends scream at each other for  _ this? _

He didn’t know anymore. He was confused and he didn’t have any idea how to  _ live _ right now. And as he contemplated his choices, he finally decided.

_ Fuck it. _

“I’ve seen my mom smoke,” Ave said as he held the cigarette in his mouth. “So...I’ve got the right idea.”

“M’kay,” Liam said, handing the lighter over. “Let’s let the  _ master  _ take charge.” Ave chuckled and lit the end of the cigarette, soon watching the wisps of smoke escape it. “Now...breathe in with your chest.” Ave did so...

And coughed out the large inhale he didn’t mean to take. His mom made it look so  _ easy _ , though.

“Dude, watch,” Liam said, taking the cigarette away and holding it to his own lips. With it practically between his teeth, he said, “Ready?” and inhaled slowly, pulling it away, holding the smoke, and then blowing it above him. “See?”

“...No,” Ave decided, as it simply looked the same as how his mom smoked. “I’m not following anything.” Liam chuckled, taking another drag, then handing it back. He smacked his lips a couple times at the taste, seemingly unpleased with the effects.

“Just...try again, alright?” Ave nodded and did so. Again, a large bout of smoke escaped in coughs. “Fuck, dude, don’t take so much in. Just...start  _ small.” _ Ave did so. Only for a couple seconds, he decided, no longer.

He succeeded in immediately letting it go without coughing, but now his throat hurt significantly.

“Yeah, nice,” Liam said, awarding Ave with a shake of the shoulder. “Do that ‘til you’re good.” Ave nodded and continued as Liam studied his motions. Of course, he easily got the hang of breathing in, breathing out, holding, and though he was no expert, he  _ was  _ average at best.

“Alright,” Ave said after a few minutes, the cigarette reaching its halfway point. “I... I think I’m good.”

“Yeah?” Ave nodded, and Liam took the trial run from Ave, stubbing it out of existence. He brought out the real test then. “‘Kay, so with this, you gotta start  _ really _ small with the inhale, okay?” As he said this, he lit the joint and promptly took a hit. Ave watched the smoke escape Liam’s mouth, briefly getting a whiff of the wisps that were travelling his way.

The curiosity would kill him, he then realised. He...had to do this. If he didn’t, he was afraid he’d never learn  _ anything  _ about the world. And however inaccurate that really was, he was content with what he had in mind.

Carefully, slowly, Liam handed him the joint. Carefully, slowly, he brought it to his lips. And so carefully, so  _ slowly,  _ did he take his first hit.

And Jesus  _ Christ,  _ was it the weirdest thing he’d ever done. He wasn’t sure how fast it worked on his perception, his body, or his judgement, but he was sure it didn’t work  _ that  _ fast.

“You alright?” Liam asked, unsure if Ave was capable of handling even the simplest of motions. Ave nodded, blowing out the smoke, trying his best not to cough.

“‘m good,” he managed, then chuckled a bit.

“You don’t sound it.”

“Yeah, I...didn’t expect that.” Liam laughed at him, plucking the joint back and taking a hit from it.

“Mm,” Liam hummed, “have you,” blew smoke out, “ever thought about shotgunning?”

“What’s that?” Ave asked with concern. He was seriously hoping it didn’t involve a  _ real  _ shotgun, because if so, then he was about to find the nearest exit and give up whatever journey he was on.

“So, instead of you taking a hit, I give you mine.” Ave laughed at that.

“What, how?” Liam then laughed at him.

“You okay with touchin’ lips?” That seemed to be the only thing that caught Ave  _ way  _ off guard. Was this going to be a kiss? Were they going to kiss? Was this even  _ appropriate? _ “Ave.” As Liam said his name, the idea seemed even more off the wall.

In fact, he was sure that was the first time Liam had said his name. His original ‘fuck it’ attitude was fading fast. Whatever buzz he had going before wasn’t as strong as it seemed.

“‘s alright,” Liam said with a chuckle, holding out the joint again to Ave when he had the lack of an answer. Ave didn’t take it. He was still in a minor state of shock. “Dude, I said nevermind, just...here.”

“Uh...,” Ave managed to mutter, blinking away from his silent contemplation. “Sorry, what’re we doing?” Liam grinned and laughed at him, and Ave laughed back nervously. Honestly, whatever had happened in the past minute was completely erased from his memory.

“Dude, do you want to shotgun?” Liam asked again, then held up a hand. “Swear to God it won’t leave the room.” Ave laughed. It was like that was all he  _ could _ do.

And finally, he nodded.


	5. Chapter 5

Liam was not necessarily someone Ave would normally trust, of course. But for now, he felt the  _ obligation  _ to trust the person sitting across from him on the bed. With a mane of curly hair, a toothy grin, and one single joint in his hand, he had no choice  _ but  _ to trust him. He was contractually obligated, at least in a moral sense.

It wasn’t that he was being pressured in any way, but as he was already here, and Liam was already offering him everything he hadn’t asked for, and with a lighthearted attitude, he just  _ had  _ to accept it.

And in this case, he had to accept the shotgun Liam was about to offer him.

“So don’t have any breath, first,” Liam said, as he looked at the joint. “And then  _ I’ll _ come in, and  _ then  _ you’ll take the hit. Just like normal.” Ave nodded slowly. “Good, alright, let’s do this.” Ave watched as Liam chuckled, almost nervously.

And then Liam took a hit. And leaned forward. Ave let out his breath, closed his eyes. Liam’s lips. Then smoke, and he breathed it in, and Liam disconnected as soon as all was gone from his lungs.

Ave’s eyes stayed closed, and though it was easier to hold the second-hand, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that it was choking his lungs. Then,  _ finally,  _ he breathed out and opened his eyes.

“Was that alright?” Liam asked carefully, laughing as Ave blinked once, then twice, furrowing his brows.

“That was...,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully, deciding on,  _ “weird.” _

“Really?” Liam simply laughed at him. “I wasn’t sure, that’s the first time I’ve ever done that.” Ave was broken away from his thoughts.

“Wh-  _ Really?” _ he questioned, and Liam nodded.

In an instant, both broke into hearty laughter.

“I hate you, I  _ hate  _ you,” Ave ended up telling Liam as he held his stomach.

“You do  _ not!”  _ Liam retorted, nearly dropping the joint between his fingers. As both of them let go their laughter, Ave felt a bit more comfortable where he was. Liam nearly felt like his friend, and at this point, it was nice to have someone who wasn’t screaming all the time.

He’d actually forgotten most of the reasons he was here. He was here to be with Liam, he knew, but he couldn’t seem to remember why or how or when. There was a clock in the room, but the time didn’t make sense to Ave. It was just  _ numbers.  _ The room was just a  _ room. _ Reasons didn’t seem to matter anymore, at least to Ave.

And Liam... Liam was  _ Liam.  _ He was  _ Liam  _ and he was with  _ him. _

Maybe it was the narcotics acting up, but Ave was so incredibly happy right then. He was practically  _ melting  _ in whatever he was feeling at that moment. And he  _ loved it. _

“Hey, Ave,” Liam said after it had gone quiet a few moments later. “You want another one?”

“One what?” Ave replied. Liam held the joint to Ave, and gratefully, Ave picked it from Liam’s fingers and took his own hit, and as a newbie, the buzz was even stronger. He felt the haze. He wanted to laugh so much for no reason. God, he was  _ happy. _ He couldn’t remember the last time he actually  _ was  _ this happy.

The past few months for him, even, he couldn’t remember one time he had smiled. It was so  _ easy  _ to just not smile and not be happy when his whole life was just a pile of shit. When he looked in the mirror and saw a pile of  _ shit.  _ Of  _ mistakes  _ and  _ regret. _

He felt none of that now.

After ten minutes, previous thoughts abandoned, the joint was gone and Ave was lain down on the bed, listening to Liam play his guitar for the  _ first  _ time since the last time he had played. Ave insisted, wanting to hear Liam at least try. It sounded nice, even if the chords were wrong and each string had no correct intonation. The strings played individually, however, sounded musical, even if just a bit.

“This isn’t  _ working,” _ Liam pressed as he played an incorrect chord again. Ave looked over from his prone position.

“No, no, keep goin’,” he said, laying his head down and closing his eyes. “I like it.”

“What’re you talkin’ about? I  _ suck.” _ Ave laughed and nodded, humming in agreement.

“Mm-hm, yeah, you do.” Liam put the guitar down in its rightful place and went to push Ave onto his back. “Dude.”

“Move over, I wanna turn on the Nintendo.” Ave groaned, and though tired from laughing, he sat up and watched blearily as Liam leaned to turn on the TV, then the Nintendo, and grab the respective controller.

“What’re you gonna play?” Ave asked curiously.

“Mario Bros, man,” Liam answered, as if it was obvious. “It’s the best game I’ve got.”

“I dunno, I don’t have a Nintendo.” Liam audibly and overdramatically gasped, looking back at Ave with a grin.

“Guess who’s gonna learn some fuckin’ Nintendo?” he asked.

“Lemme guess:  _ me.” _

“Dude, haven’t you ever gone to your friend’s house and played one?” Ave sighed.

“God, don’t even  _ bring up  _ my,” Ave held up his hands and did quotations, “‘friends.’”

“Why, what’s wrong with ‘em?”

“They’re in a constant  _ screaming _ match.” Liam hummed understanding.

“Right. So why not tell ‘em to  _ shut up?” _

“I  _ have,  _ and believe you me,” Ave adjusted to sit next to Liam on the edge of the bed, “it doesn’t work.” Liam chuckled as the game started up, and Ave stared curiously at it. “How d’you play, then?”

“You jump and move,” Liam said, starting from the beginning stage and started to move through it easily. Ave watched with intent, not  _ quite _ sure about the entertaining part, since he was more a ‘books’ kind of person. Liam hummed the tune that played in the stage, an 8-bit melody that seemed to stick in Ave’s head.

As the game continued and Ave’s head grew heavy with drowsiness, his head fell onto Liam’s shoulder in an attempt to put more energy into his eyes and less into his neck.

“Dude, are you tired?” Liam asked as Ave sighed. Ave grunted in response, his eyes closing. Liam laughed loudly at him, shrugging him off and pausing the game. “Hold on, I’ll grab some food. Anything you want?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ave replied, opening his eyes and looking Liam over. He looked nice, Ave’s muddled brain decided. Liam shrugged and trudged away from the room, leaving Ave to contemplate his feelings once more.

How long he had been at Liam’s, he wasn’t sure. He’d usually be very perceptive of the time, but he had no energy to count the numbers on the clock. He wasn’t sure where Liam’s parents were, and he wasn’t sure if  _ his _ mom was worried about him. Whether or not the school called to tell her that he hadn’t been there all day, whether or not his friends were relying on his mediation to keep them from murdering each other.

But still, to Ave, it was like none of it mattered now. And that felt  _ wonderful. _

“Thanks, Rach,” Liam’s voice travelled through the door, and Liam entered the room again, brandishing carrots and ranch. “Sorry, all I got’s veggies.”

“‘s fine,” Ave replied, taking one from the plate and dipping it in the ranch. “Who’s Rach?”

“My sister,” Liam replied wearily. “She gave me half her carrots.”

“What a wonderful sister.”

“God, you should see her when you’re not here,” Liam laughed, eating his own carrot. “A  _ nightmare.” _

“Your parents’re home, too?” Liam nodded as he swallowed his bite.

“Yeah, they got home ‘bout an hour ago.” Ave raised his eyebrows.

“What time’s it?” Liam pointed to the clock, and Ave followed the direction. More awake than before, he read the time, 1:26 pm.  _ “Shit,  _ dude, have I been here all day?”

“Yeah, since this morning,” Liam said. “Is it... Did you wanna go? ‘Cause that’s cool if you-”

“Nah, no,” Ave quickly denied the idea. “I just...haven’t had the energy to even  _ read  _ the time for, like, three hours.” Liam rolled his eyes and set the plate down, letting Ave devour most of the food as he continued the game.

“How can you not read time?” he asked.

“Dude, I am  _ tired,  _ okay? I can't even...” Ave chuckled and watched Liam. “How long can I stay?”

“‘s long as you- Shit!”

“As long as I shit?” Liam nudged him.

“No, as long as you  _ want.” _ Ave shrugged.

“Well, unless a search warrant is sent out for me, I think I’ll stay for awhile.” Liam shrugged.

A twenty-minute passing period flew by, and Liam finally dropped the controller as he lost the game.

“What, you’re bored?” Ave asked.

_ “No,”  _ Liam stressed. “I’m tired of  _ losing.” _ Ave looked over at the desk, which he noticed, still held the stubbed out cigarette. Even if only a couple hours ago, Ave couldn’t clearly remember what had happened. He only knew that he had been clearly de-stressed.

And that one... _ thing. _ He couldn’t remember. But it made him feel better about the world. And even as the cogs in his brain churned, looking for the answer, he couldn’t place what had made him feel  _ so _ much better.

“Hey,” Ave ended up saying without a thought.

“What?” Liam replied, looking over at him.

“What happened since I got here?” Liam laughed, looking over at his door to ensure it was closed.

“Uh... You tried tree for the first time, and...a cigarette. And we both did  _ shotgunning _ for the first time. We played some guitar and some Nintendo, and we ate carrots. Oh, and you laughed a  _ lot.” _ Ave picked through Liam’s words, looking for what most reminded him of that feeling.

“Oh, shit,” Ave said with a realisation. He finally remembered. “It was the shotgun.”

“The shotgun....what?” Ave shook his head, forgetting that Liam couldn’t see into his thoughts.

“Uh... That was my favourite part, I think.”

“What, out of everything? You liked  _ that?” _

“Yeah, it was just...fuckin’  _ weird.” _ Liam laughed heartily.

“Dude, are you okay?” he asked through short giggles. Ave nodded, his face displaying his thought process more than his emotion.

“What? No, man, I’m fine.” Well, in fact, Ave wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what ‘okay’ really  _ meant  _ to him anymore. Was it okay to  _ like  _ shotgunning simply because Liam had, in its most base form, kissed him? Was it okay to just  _ like  _ that?

Furthermore, was it okay to want to do it _ again? _

“Do you wanna do it again?” Liam asked, as if reading whatever Ave seemed to be suggesting to himself. “I mean, I’m outta tree, but you still got those cigs, so we can just do it really quick.” Ave looked over. “C’mon, just get it out. Real quick, though, I don’t wanna get caught.” Ave, as told, took out one of the two remaining cigarettes, handing it to Liam, who checked the door once, then pulled out his lighter and lit the end, keeping it lit and blowing out the first inhale. “Ready?” Ave nodded, and watched as Liam repeated the motion, pulling the cigarette away and waving his hand to get Ave to face him.

As Ave let out his breath, he wasn’t sure what to expect with this, but he was  _ sure  _ he’d get the same feeling. No matter what it was, he just liked  _ Liam _ , and how  _ Liam  _ performed the action with him.

Liam leaned forward, and Ave closed his eyes like the first time, letting Liam’s lips join his as Liam exhaled the second-hand into Ave’s mouth. Like the last time, Ave inhaled, and unlike the last time, Liam didn’t pull back.

In fact, Liam  _ kissed  _ him. And Ave copied him. He couldn’t hold the smoke any longer and let out a breath as his and Liam’s lips were joined by wisps of smoke escaping his mouth, the taste refusing to leave him, Liam refusing the same.

And this, this  _ exact feeling,  _ lasted longer, and he could tell that it hadn’t been narcotics or satisfaction of a new action. It had just been  _ Liam  _ and Liam’s  _ lips  _ and then Liam’s  _ tongue. _ And Liam pushing him back to the bed, Liam straddling him, Liam, Liam, Liam,  _ Liam. _

_ Liam was the thing. _

Ave couldn’t quite help but let his fingers just _tangle_ in Liam’s hair, Liam running his thumbs over the shaved sides of Ave’s head. And the _heat,_ there was so much _heat._ _Breathing_ and _sighing_ and _lips_ and _tongues._ So much _passion,_ Ave decided to categorise it.

He was surprised he could still think. He was surprised he was even  _ here,  _ and Liam was  _ here  _ and he was  _ happy. _ That this was still  _ happening. _

This  _ was _ happening, right?

For a moment, Ave considered that maybe this was all a dream. He was asleep in English, his friends weren’t fighting, he didn’t even know that Liam existed. He had his backpack, and his button-up. He didn’t steal from his mother. He didn’t skip school. He wasn’t  _ here. _

And a bite to his lip pulled him from his thoughts as the warm feeling left him.

“Hey,” Liam said, hanging over Ave’s face, breathing slightly heavier than before, “you okay?” Ave opened his eyes, seeing the reality of the world. “You’re, like,  _ way _ out of it.”

“I...,” Ave managed to say, but no words followed the thought. Even seeing the real world, it still didn’t feel...real. It was simply  _ too  _ good to be true. Liam’s eyes read as an error message to him. The cigarette now squished between Liam’s fingers over to the side just looked like nothing. He himself felt wrong. Everything was  _ wrong, wrong, wrong. _

“What’s wrong?” Liam asked, as if he had been asking Ave forever and ever. “Ave, what’s wrong? Why’re you...lookin’ at me like that?”

“I...,” he said, then the words finally followed, “have to go.” And all he got was a blink and a stare. Liam looked like a deer caught in a  _ very _ bright pair of headlights.

“You...do?” Liam asked, as if looking for hints of lies and deceit. All he seemed to find was confusion.

“...Yeah.” And Ave sat up, pushing Liam so Liam was sitting on his lap, leg on either side of him. And Liam moved to let Ave get off the bed. “I...”

“Ave, what’s...,” he managed to get out, but the look Ave seemed to give him said that this wasn’t what he had meant to get into. Into  _ Liam’s  _ life. His life didn’t  _ mix  _ with Liam’s. That was something he remembered thinking. And he was right. He and Liam just...couldn’t do this. Couldn’t do  _ anything. _

“I’ll see you,” was all Ave managed to say without overthinking his actions, and he exited the room, leaving Liam confused and very much upset that whatever he had done, he had done  _ wrong. _


	6. Chapter 6

Incredibly, Liam found himself unable to move for the longest time. In fact, he was  _ still _ sat in the same position for about an hour, trying to think about what it was he must’ve done wrong. Eyes glancing at the door every so often, wondering if he was part of some cruel joke. At least, it  _ felt _ like a cruel joke.

The cigarette Liam held had burned itself out of existence, the filter and slight ash being the only thing left in his hand. His sister, Rachelle, even seemed  _ worried  _ about his state of mind as she came to ask him what he was doing. Her long hair hung behind her ears, eyes scanning over her brother.

“Liam,” she said, which finally snapped him away from the trance he had been put in. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at his hand and stubbing out the ash against the bedframe and picking at the dead filter, clearing his throat. “Fine. Just...go away.”

“But-” Liam groaned and stood.

“Rachelle, get  _ out,”  _ he pressed, waving her away and closing the bedroom door in her face as he heard her sigh.

“Dad wants to know what you want for dinner,” her voice travelled through the wood.

“I don’t care, whatever. ’m not hungry.” Rachelle groaned to herself and trudged away from the door, Liam knowing he was being difficult to his sister, but at least it was good enough to get rid of her. He could hear his dad, asking Rachelle what she meant, before his footsteps replaced hers.

“Liam, can I, uh, come in?” his dad asked, and Liam closed his eyes, rolling them behind the lids. He laid down on his bed, reaching to open the window and toss the torn filter, calling for his dad to enter.

“What?” Liam asked, looking his dad's questioning looks over. His dad was starting to grey over, his eyes tired and body somewhat heavier than before. Regardless, it was  _ still _ his father, and Liam  _ still _ didn’t want him in his bedroom.

“You’re not hungry?” Liam shook his head. “Your, uh...friend left.” Liam nodded.

“He had to go home,” Liam decided to say, though he very much knew that  _ wasn’t  _ why Ave had left him sitting there, completely broken up. At that statement, however, his dad decided it was in  _ Liam’s _ best interest to sit down on the bed. “Dad, _ please,” _ Liam sighed, covering his face with his hands and mumbling something irritably.

“Liam, what, uh, happened?” his dad asked.

“Nothin’.”

“Liam...”

_ “Dad.” _ His dad rubbed his temples.

“Liam, please, I’m not trying to, uh...push you or anything. Why aren’t you hungry?”

“Just ‘cause, okay?” Liam wasn’t very into the idea of telling his dad that he had kissed someone in his room, especially when that someone decided to abandon him. And he would be over it, anyways. He didn’t  _ need  _ to talk about it.

“That’s not why, Liam. Tell me.”

“Just get  _ out.” _ Liam waited for his request to be fulfilled, and when it didn’t, he shot his dad a glare.  _ “Please.” _ His dad shot the glare right back.

“I don’t know why you’re insisting to act like this,” he said, his tone becoming more malevolent than concerned. “I just want to know what’s wrong.”

“Well, I don’t  _ have  _ to talk about it, so  _ go  _ away,” Liam retorted, and he knew he’d get yelled at, then he’d yell, and it would take him all night to calm down.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Liam-”

“Just go  _ away!”  _ Liam was the first to yell, and his dad stood up then, only slightly seething, as he knew better than to scream at his son this time around.

“Fine,” he said, “but I want you to calm down.”

“And I want  _ you _ to  _ go away,” _ Liam continued to press.

“Then  _ don’t  _ leave your room.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” And his dad left the room, leaving Liam with near tears in his eyes, which he always had when he yelled. He was always crying when he was yelling at someone, and when he looked in the mirror afterwards, it  _ always _ showed how much he hurt more than how angry he was.

An hour passed by, Liam looking over at the clock constantly, wondering what could  _ possibly _ fill the empty silence that his anger still flared in. And his eyes fell on the guitar again. Liam stood to go pick it up for the second time that day, plucking a single string.

If he was correct, the strings were out of tune and the settled dust kept the pegs from turning. Liam only needed to grab the edge of his shirt and wipe everything off, the wood shining again. The pegs turned easier and Liam tuned it as best he could, the minor details of how they were supposed to sound coming to him.

His fingers graced each fret after he tuned it, the skin hurting from the lack of a callous. His relatively long nails, thankfully, let him pluck the strings without a pick. He spent a good few minutes testing the feeling of the guitar, trying to get used to having a large acoustic box in his lap.

If he could play, he’d finally have a reason to bring it to school with him. He found the notations easily, first on the lower strings, then on the higher strings. For an hour, Liam simply sat there, just plucking the strings and figuring out how to play a song he knew _ far _ too well.

A knock on his door pulled him away from his plucking, his dad opening it without a warning.

“Liam?” he asked, looking down at his son, who just stared at his guitar, neglecting to look up. “Are you okay?”

“‘m fine,” Liam murmured, running the fingers only over the strings, afraid to play in front of anyone.

“You’re playing your, uh, guitar.”

“Yeah...” If Liam looked up then, he’d have seen his dad smile just before he closed the door to let Liam have solace in the fact that he had calmed down so quickly just by playing music. Liam didn’t yet realise it, but he decided at that moment that he’d dedicate  _ all  _ his time to learning this one song, and he wasn’t sure  _ what _ was pushing him to do so, but whatever it was, he let it push him.


	7. Chapter 7

“Where have you _been?”_ was the first thing Ave’s mom asked when he arrived home.

“School,” Ave replied, still very much traumatised from the events that had happened merely two hours ago, though his face showed off his best fake confusion.

“The school already _called_ me,” she explained. “They said you _skipped_ all your classes.” Ave looked at his mother, who was glaring him down with her brown hair in a messy ponytail. Her large body was barely fitted into the small armchair, her hand resting near a glass of water. “Why didn’t you take your bag to school or anything?”

“I didn’t need it, okay?” Ave retorted. His mom held up her hands and sighed.

“I’m not...attacking you right now. I just want to know where you were.”

“I was just at a friend's house.” She raised an eyebrow.

“What friend?” Ave shrugged.

“He’s just a friend. I met him today.”

“What, at school?” He glared at her.

“...Yes.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. As tired as Ave was, he  _ knew _ he had to sit and listen to whatever his mom had to say. And as unfair as he thought it was, he didn’t see what point his mom was trying to make, however reasonable she was being.

“What’s his name?” she asked after a few moments. Ave rolled his eyes,  _ “Don’t  _ roll your eyes at me, Ave.”

“Why does it  _ matter,  _ though?”

“Was it the fighting ones?”

_ “No.” _

“Then  _ who?” _

“Just a guy, Mom, Jesus Christ, just...fuckin’  _ leave _ it.” Ave attempted to have the last word and simply walk away, but his mom,  _ of course,  _ wasn’t having it.

“Hey-  _ Hey!”  _ she scolded. “Get over here.” Ave rolled his eyes again, something his mom decided to ignore for now. “Why’d you skip school today?”

“The teacher just kicked me out,  _ okay?” _ Ave finally admitted, throwing his arms in the air. “So I just- I skipped!”

“Hey,” she said, pointing a finger. “Calm yourself. Sit down.” Ave did as he was told, rolling his eyes a third time. “I know your friends are fighting. You know I really... I  _ don’t  _ like them, but... Ave, I don’t know what you're  _ doing,  _ I just don’t want you to start becoming this... _ dipshit, _ who just skips school and does whatever with some guy  _ I’ve _ never heard of. Trust me, I know.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk about it, so...,” Ave pushed out, and as much as his mom’s words  _ sounded _ true,  _ nothing  _ could distract him from what happened at Liam’s house. And he’d never go so far as to tell his  _ mom _ what happened.

She sighed and shook her head.

“Alright,” she said, standing, and though Ave could clearly see she was upset at his lack of communication, he had no comment to make. “Fine, you go...do  _ whatever  _ you want. Just don’t expect me to come help you.” Ave, one last time, rolled his eyes and walked to his room.

“Whatever, Mom,” he mumbled, going to his room and shutting the door, turning on his TV and letting cartoons dull his brain fast and quick enough to forget the events that had left him so... _ confused. _

Eventually, night came and his brain had been shut off for nearly six hours. He hadn’t moved from underneath the covers, watching reruns of whatever cartoon he could find. He honestly still couldn’t find the motivation to do  _ anything  _ anymore.

Whatever had happened to him had actually fucked him up  _ more  _ than he thought possible. And most of all, he  _ hated  _ that he couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason why. He kissed Liam, he smoked weed, he cut class, he...didn’t know _ what _ was happening to him.

The next morning punched him in the face. He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but he woke up and his TV was still on, Simpsons playing on a high note. The sun cascaded through the windows, seemingly aiming to just  _ blind  _ him. As he blinked, his eyes glanced over to his clock, which clearly read past the time he was supposed to be at school. But what was the point of getting up? Was he just going to  _ skip  _ again? Get kicked out, even?

However, his mom interrupted his thoughts.

“Are you up?” she asked, rapping her knuckle on the door. He rolled his eyes. “Ave?”

_ “Yes?” _ he replied, irritated. He didn’t plan on getting out of  _ bed,  _ however.

“Are you going to school or what?” she asked. Without a thought, Ave responded.

“Why  _ should  _ I?” he retorted harshly, going back to retreat under his blankets, letting the cartoon drown out all noise as best it could.

“Because I fucking  _ said _ so,” she told him, now opening the door.

“Oh, because you  _ said  _ so,” he muttered, not loud enough for her to hear clearly.

“Just...get up,” she sighed, walking away. Ave could practically  _ feel  _ her disappointment cut into him, and reluctantly, he pulled himself out of bed. If there was one thing he couldn’t ever get past, it was  _ that. _ Of course, he still wasn’t going to bring anything to school with him but himself. That much she could just deal with him doing, no matter  _ how  _ angry she would be.

He left without a goodbye at nearly noon, past when lunch had started, but not quite before it had ended. He thanked  _ God  _ he lived close enough for a five minute walk away. At least he wouldn’t have to be in class right away.

However, using the back entrance to the school, he ran into a large problem. The problem being that Liam was waiting. With a guitar. And when  _ his  _ eyes fell onto Ave, he jumped from where he stood and started walking beside him.

“Ave, hey,” he greeted, as if he did this every day. As if Ave  _ wasn’t  _ purposefully avoiding his gaze. “I was wondering if you were gonna come to school today, I... I brought my guitar, I wanted t’show you somethin’...” But as Ave continued walking, Liam’s voice trailed off and he stopped. Ave paid no attention to the eyes of his peers, nor did he pay attention to Liam’s. He especially didn’t pay attention to the pain in his chest or the tears in his eyes or the fact that he  _ couldn’t fucking do it. _

“Ave...,” someone’s voice said, but Ave shot the person a glare and their voice stopped. Everything stopped for him. The doors and the clouds and the world.

In fact, everything went black.

He couldn’t tell why, but then he found that he had stopped moving, his legs were buckled underneath his body and his head was hung towards the ground. Tears escaped his eyes viciously, but he made no noise. In fact, he did nothing after thirty mere seconds. And though hands were grasped at his shoulders, shaking him, he just...couldn’t  _ feel  _ it. He couldn’t feel  _ anything.  _ After so long of not  _ feeling,  _ and then suddenly feeling a wave of indescribable emotion, somehow, it just  _ broke  _ him.

And it was just... _ unfair. _

Everything in his life was just  _ unfair. _ Why did he get the fucking  _ bullshit? _ What did he  _ do?  _ What?

What did he do to deserve  _ this? _

_ What did I do to deserve any of this? _

That was all he could think. The school bell rang. He wasn’t moving, at least, not on his own. He was thrown into a seat, he was given a box of tissues. He could hear voices talking and phones ringing and he just couldn’t  _ feel _ anything. He just let the tears coat his cheeks, ignoring the tissues, ignoring the voices, only being able to focus on the sole facts of his life.

And it seemed like nothing had changed still.

He was still royally  _ fucked up. _


	8. Chapter 8

As much as Ave  _ begged  _ the world to just leave him be, it just didn’t seem to listen. Seeing as he was sat in his room, alone, just  _ waiting  _ for the next day to come, and somehow, someone else made their way to try to talk to him. His friends.  _ Both _ of them.

“Hey,” the first said. “We, uh... We made up.” Ave ignored their gazes.

“Yeah, whatever...,” Ave mumbled quietly.

“But...isn’t this  _ better? _ I mean, I thought you’d be happy that we aren’t fighting anymore.” Well, in a sense, Ave  _ was  _ happy. It was one less weight on his shoulders, one less thought on his mind. But it just didn’t cut itself out to be whatever amount of happiness he seemed to need.

“Yeah, I’m... Sure.”

“Your mom said you were being moody,” the second spoke, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, so? I just wanna be left alone.” The first scoffed.

_ “Alone?”  _ he repeated, like it was some kind of joke. “We haven’t seen you for, like, a week now.” At that, Ave glared at the two, almost  _ shocked _ at how conceited they seemed to be acting.

“Just because I wasn’t hanging out with  _ you  _ two all the time doesn’t mean I was  _ alone.” _

“Who were you hanging out with, then?” the second asked, haughty and unbelieving. However, when the thought processed and the words came to Ave’s mind, they simply stuck in his throat. He didn’t know  _ why  _ he couldn’t tell them, but for some reason, it felt like he  _ shouldn’t. _

“I’m going outside,” he grumbled, stalking away from his friends down the stairs to the front door, all the way out to the sidewalk, where he knew his mom couldn’t see him well enough. As she wasn’t even paying attention to him, too focused on the magazine she was skimming through, it felt like maybe he could just walk away and  _ not  _ turn back around.

_ “Ave,”  _ the first whined as he followed him outside, and watched in shock as Ave lit a single cigarette. “Wh- Since when do you do _ that?” _

“Who  _ cares?”  _ Ave shot back, inhaling small bits, easily falling into the habit, memories flooding, but not enough to put him off. His other friend came through, gasping at Ave when she caught the sight in front of her.

“Dude, what the  _ hell?”  _ she said. “Why are you...,” she checked the door and whispered,  _ “smoking?” _

“Why not?” Ave shrugged, taking another drag and turning to blow it away from his friends. Should he even  _ call  _ them his friends anymore? “Look, can you guys just...leave?”

“Why, so you can...,” the first said, waving his arms, looking for  _ something  _ justifiable. “So you can do... _ this?” _

“Fine.  _ I’ll  _ leave, then.” And Ave turned and just walked away. Leaving his mom to wonder yet again where he was, leaving those two people outside his house to either follow him or argue again. He hoped for the latter. At least  _ then _ he wouldn’t have to deal with them. He was  _ far  _ done dealing with them.

Somehow, Ave found himself walking a familiar road, one he seemed to know well enough to catch himself staring at a house, dropping his cigarette on the ground and stubbing it out. He tried to find the reason why he was here.

_ Right. _

Now he remembered.

“Hi, Dad,” he greeted the house he knew was completely empty. “Sorry, I just... God, what the  _ fuck  _ am I doing here?” He wasn’t sure  _ who  _ he was asking, but no response came regardless. Ave walked the three steps up to the front door, hand familiarly running across the green railing. No one lived in the house, he knew that much. It was too... _ broken _ for anyone to live in.

Inside it was still intact, as the last time he had left it. When  _ was  _ the last time he came here? Was it last Christmas? Or maybe it had been too long to remember. But it still felt the same as last time, he imagined. It didn’t hurt anymore, he knew that much. At least he had that.

The house was just... _ empty.  _ There was nothing inside but broken doors and burnt floorboards. Stoves and lights, piping and cabinets had all been removed. They had always planned to renovate the house, but somehow, that hadn’t happened yet.

Maybe they knew. They  _ knew  _ what this house meant to Ave. They  _ knew  _ that it was wrong to get rid of it. And because it seemed like it was all that was left, maybe they just... _ knew  _ it wasn’t something to get rid of. Because it didn’t  _ hurt  _ anymore. Because this house was something that reminded him of only good things, and never bad things.  _ Never  _ bad things.

Ave, that day, spent the rest of his time in that house, not really moving, just lying on the floorboards, listening to the outside. He hadn’t felt this kind of contentedness in a long time. Sometimes, he just wondered if maybe there was something  _ wrong  _ with him. Why his mind was so backwards, he couldn’t know. He couldn’t know why this didn’t  _ hurt.  _ He just didn’t understand anymore. He didn’t understand  _ pain  _ like this anymore.  _ Nothing _ could ever hurt him as bad this did. And when it didn’t  _ hurt  _ anymore, he didn’t know why. He never felt like he was over it, and yet...

He just... _ didn’t know. _

Why didn’t he  _ know? _

“Dad, I just...,” he said aloud, despite being alone in an empty house. “I just... What do I do?” Nothing. “Dad, _ c’mon. _ Move a door or something.” No response. “Fine, whatever. Just...miss you and everything. Wish you were here still.” At that, a door creaked. Even though Ave knew it was the wind, he pretended it was his dad, telling him something. “Dad, you  _ ass,”  _ Ave laughed, looking at the moving door. “I  _ hate _ it when you mess with me like that.” The door continued to move, and Ave just laughed. His dad, somewhere, had to be happy. Happier than he ever was here, he hoped. And though Ave was a scientific person, he always held on to the belief that, should there be a heaven, that was where his dad was, and he was happy up there.

“Okay,” Ave said after another ten minutes, noticing the sunset. “I gotta go. Mom’s gonna flip already.” The door creaked. “Don’t know what you said, but if you’re tellin’ me to go home, that’s what I’m doin’.” He laughed at the door again, and turned to leave.

The breeze felt good, and he felt just a bit more rejuvenated than he did before he visited the house. Happier, even. Not even his fighting friends could break this. Not even... _ Liam  _ could break this.

He knew Liam lived close. He  _ knew.  _ But he didn’t go to Liam’s house. He went home. His mom said nothing. He said nothing. He simply took his dinner to his room, ate, and slept. Nothing else. He didn’t  _ need  _ anything else then. Just his dad, his food, and his bed.

That was better than any other time he could think of.


	9. Chapter 9

Liam, obviously, wasn’t about to give up on Ave. He had spent the  _ entire _ time Ave was ignoring him to learn the one song he knew he could  _ play, _ the one he could  _ sing.  _ At the least, it gave him a distraction. He still brought it with him to school every day, and now, he seemed less like the punk kid and more like the dreamboat. He didn’t even find time to skip class or talk back to teachers. He was now the guy with  _ immensely  _ long hair that could  _ kind of  _ play, but could  _ really  _ sing.

Not  _ his _ words, but what he assumed were everyone else’s. People help asking him to  _ play this one song that goes like this  _ and if he could  _ sing that one song that’s about the motorcycle. _ Each time, he would press back, that  _ no, _ he couldn’t do that. He wasn’t learning guitar to entertain everyone. Just himself.

Just...one person.

He only brought it to school to practice there when he could. He was  _ obsessed  _ with getting absolutely  _ every single fucking note correct. _

And one day, two weeks past, he  _ finally  _ did it. He  _ finally _ played properly. And he played it again. That one day, he played that  _ one song  _ so many times he was sure he could play it without even thinking. So he tried. And tried again.

Another day and he could play it without thinking. And all he could think to himself was that he was  _ fucking amazing.  _ He wasn’t about to be humble about it, he was absolutely fucking  _ ready  _ now. Ready for what, he didn’t know. But he knew enough to step outside the house and think about it.

What was he ready for? Was he ready to talk to Ave again? To become a punk-ass kid again?

Actually, what the hell  _ was  _ he ready for?

This is what he contemplated as he strolled through paths, looking for somewhere silent to play that  _ wasn’t  _ his room or school. Walking through his neighbourhood on a Sunday was quiet. Everyone was sleeping in, recovering from Saturday’s activities. Sundays were usually Liam’s favourite days.

_ Silent  _ days.

And yet, as he approached an abandoned path, he spotted something that looked incredibly familiar. Something he could recognise in a crowd.

He made no noise as he continued forwards, passing houses that had no life inside,  _ very  _ empty houses. And watched as one house stood out above them all. A  _ burnt  _ house. With green railing and a nearly caved in roof, stairways that creaked underneath what he was following. He stepped forward towards the house. Hand gripping his guitar tightly, he walked up the stairs and into the house.

It was  _ silent,  _ that was for sure. If it... If  _ he _ hadn’t been in the house, this would’ve been the perfect place to play for him. However, he was more concerned with what was in the other room.

He went to knock on the door carefully, as if the wood might just  _ crumble  _ underneath his fingers from the burns and ashes that surrounded everything.

“...Ave?” his voice echoed through the room, and he walked forward to see just that. Ave was lain on the floor, staring at the ceiling, but now he looked to Liam on his left.

“Oh, hey, Liam,” he greeted half-heartedly, turning back to the ceiling. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“I, uh...,” Liam hummed quietly as he walked forward and sat down on the floor next to Ave. “I saw you, and I... I just followed you. I guess.” Liam drummed his fingers on his guitar for a few moments. “You’re not comin’ to school anymore?”

“No,” Ave answered simply. “I just...don’t wanna get up, really.” Liam nodded as Ave looked at the guitar in his hands. “What’s with the strings?” Liam looked down.

“What, this?” Liam asked, remembering what he had been walking around for. “No, I just... I was lookin’ for a place to play outside.”

“You play now?” Liam nodded with a small grin.

“Yeah, after you left, I, uh... I just practiced. I only know  _ one  _ song.”

“What is it?”

“Pink Floyd?” Liam asked, hoping he wasn’t living in the past and that Ave knew at least  _ one  _ eighties song.

“Oh, them,” Ave said knowingly. “They’re okay.” Liam raised his eyebrows.

_ “Okay?”  _ he asked incredulously. “They’re  _ awesome.” _

“Okay, then, Mr. Music, play something,” Ave replied quickly, turning back once more to the ceiling. Liam plucked one string.

“You sure?” Ave nodded, closing his eyes.

Liam played the first few notes, sliding his fingers across the frets, trying to find the comfortability within himself. He moved to take off the one ring he wore, and then began.

The first notes were simple slides and one chord, and then a bit of a more difficult slide to chord progression, and finally, without thinking, Liam began to  _ sing. _

“So, so you think you can tell, heaven from hell? Blue skies from pain? Can you tell a green field, from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell?”

Though it was minorly harder to play  _ and  _ sing, Liam found it was easy to manage here, with Ave, in this silent house, in this  _ empty  _ place. Between the  _ burnt  _ walls, on the  _ ashen  _ floorboards. He continued.

“And did they get you to trade, your heroes for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change? Did you exchange, a walk-on part in the war, for a lead role in a cage?”

Another chord progression came, plucks on the strings, careful fingering of the frets, trying to be sure not to mess up this... _ opportunity. _ If he could  _ call  _ it that. Ave’s eyes stayed closed, breathing slow and steady.

“How I wish, how I wish you were here. We’re just, two lost souls swimmin’ in a fishbowl, year after year. Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here...”

Liam’s voice faded slowly, knowing there were no more words to be said. He put full concentration in his playing,  _ sliding  _ and  _ strumming  _ and  _ playing. _ Playing for  _ Ave. _

Playing for someone who...

Someone who couldn’t... _ hear _ him anymore.

And it was an unnoticeable trait in the lain person until Liam stopped playing.

“There,” he said as he strummed the last chord. “How’s that?” Liam eyed Ave curiously.

His chest would not rise.

“Ave?”

His eyes would not open.

“...Ave, hey...”

_ His body would not move. _

“Ave?”

_ His body would not move. _

_ “Ave?” _

 

_ His body _

 

_ would not _

 

_ move. _


	10. Chapter 10

_ “Dad, did you get me some sushi?” _

_ “What’s that, then?” _

_ “It’s this Japanese stuff, like raw fish and rice. It’s  _ really _ good, I was gonna share it with you.” _

_ “Oh, yeah, because I want to eat  _ raw  _ fish.” _

_ “Trust me, it’s really good.” _

_ “Well, if you say so. When we find time, we’ll ask Mom and we’ll go out if she wants to.” _

_ “Cool. How was work?” _

_ “It was fine. Those  _ stupid _ fucking clients, though, I mean... I can’t  _ believe  _ some people.” _

_ “Who, then?” _

_ “There was some woman who was going  _ on  _ and  _ on  _ about her  _ dog _ and then her  _ daughter _ and I was just trying to get her information and she wouldn’t listen to me.” _

_ “Sounds like a stupid fucking client.” _

_ “Yeah. Anyways, how was school?” _

_ “It was fine. This kid in math knocked my books off my desk.” _

_ “How about your art class?” _

_ “God, don’t get me  _ started  _ on the dipshit. She doesn’t  _ do  _ painting, she does clay.” _

_ “Well, ask her to pretend she’s painting clay.” _

_ “I can’t tell her what to do.” _

_ “Sure, you can. You go up to her and you say, ‘Hey, dipshit, learn how to fuckin’ paint!’” _

_ “Oh, my God, Dad, no!” _

_ “I’m messin’ around. Just stick out the class, wait ‘til she lets you do an individual project.” _

_ “Yeah. You think I could do woodshop?” _

_ “If you want.” _

_ “‘Cause there’s a class open the same time as Art, so maybe I’ll just switch over.” _

_ “Whatever you want.” _

_ “Hey, Dad?” _

_ “What?” _

_ “I love you.” _

_ “...Don’t say weird things.” _

_ “You don’t say weird things.” _

_ “Shut up.” _

_ “You shut up.” _

_ “Uh, no, how about...you?” _

_ “Methinks you.” _

_ “Me-double-thinks you.” _

_ “Me- _ triple- _ thinks you.” _

“You.”

_ “No,  _ you.”

“You.”

“You!”

 

“You.”

 

“No, you.”

 

“You...know he won’t be awake for a considerable amount of time,” the doctor explained to the mother of a child who wouldn’t wake up. Of course, knowing her, she was devastated. A widowed mother with no one  _ but _ her child, forced to live a life where she could no longer care for her pride and joy, her whole reason for being  _ alive. _ It was just... _ unfair. _

“Ave is simply sleeping,” the doctor explained to Ave’s mother. “He won’t come to for an hour or so.”

“I don’t  _ care  _ when he wakes up, I want to know  _ why,”  _ his mother shot back cruelly, despite talking to the _ one  _ person that had medically saved his life.

“Why...what?”

“Why he did this, do you know  _ why?” _ She talked as if she had been repeating herself multiple times, when in reality, she had only asked the one time.

“I...can’t say. I’m in no place to diagnose him as a psychiatrist-”

_ “Humour me.”  _ Her face was far past worry and had gone right into a killer mode.

“I would have to say that this may... May have been,” the doctor looked away for a moment, “a suicide attempt.” At this, Ave’s mother finally decided to sit down in the chair.

“Thank you,” she said after a few moments. “I wish you had told me when I came  _ in,  _ but  _ apparently _ , that didn’t happen.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll just...have a nurse in shortly to check his vitals, but until then, you’re free to wait here.” Ave’s mother waved him off and sighed, looking Ave over like  _ she  _ was the doctor.

Even  _ if  _ she had no medical license, she knew Ave like  _ no one else.  _ She had ingrained into her memory what foods he didn’t like, what plants and animals gave him the worst reactions, what people he wouldn’t tolerate, what his personality was like, what  _ he _ was like. She was his  _ mother,  _ for God’s sake.

Any mother who didn’t  _ care  _ for their child like a mother, with unconditional love, shouldn’t be a mother. At least, in her mind, that was how she saw it. She had seen  _ so many  _ mothers who just didn’t... _ care. _ They let their children do  _ whatever  _ they wanted, they wrapped themselves up in their own world. Sure, Ave’s mother had  _ piles  _ and  _ piles  _ of problems to deal with, but Ave always came first. She put this responsibility on herself, she had to live up to what she had done in her life.

That was Ave. Ave wasn’t the best or worst thing in her life, but he certainly was  _ something. _ He was a large part of all her decisions, her emotions, her feelings. He was a large part of  _ her.  _ And she wasn’t about to throw away all this work keeping Ave alive, or as happy as she could help him to be, all because he was  _ asleep  _ for an  _ hour. _

She didn’t know who carried him to the hospital. Another teenager. She was told that the kid’s parents drove him to the hospital, as he lived nearby. Somehow, that wasn’t important to her. She just wanted Ave to be alive. Even if it was selfish to want him alive just so she felt at _peace,_ she didn’t care. She _deserved_ to want her child to be happy because she had spent so much time making sure he was safe, and secure, and _happy._ And if he wasn’t happy, if he wanted to _die,_ then she felt as if she had done something _wrong._

A nurse interrupted her thoughts.

“Hi,” he greeted. He had his hair up in a bun and a gentle smile. “I’m the nurse, I’m just here to check his heart rate and his blood pressure.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” she said. She was  _ exhausted. _

“How’re you?”

“Well, my son just tried to die, so I’d say I’m tired,” she replied, surprising the nurse with her lack of sarcasm.

“...I’m sorry.” She rubbed her eyes and nodded. “He’ll be fine.”

“I know, I know, I just...want to know  _ why.  _ Why he wants to die, I just...” She wanted to cry, she  _ did,  _ but there was nothing left in her. She had been this way before, unable to cry, unable to feel, just being empty for so long. But she pushed past everything right now. There was no  _ time  _ for that.

Sure, she could just  _ let  _ herself fall apart and just  _ let  _ herself become exactly as she was before, a druggie on the floor, having a panic attack with a bottle of pills in her hands, but  _ no.  _ There was no  _ time  _ for that.

“His heart rate is normal,” the nurse told her, “and his blood pressure’s normal. He’ll be awake soon.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s his name?”

“You don’t  _ know?” _ she asked incredulously.

“Well, I  _ do,  _ I was just...making conversation.”

“His name’s Ave.” The nurse nodded.

“That’s a good name. Your choice?”

“No, his dad’s.” She chuckled. “He loved horror movies a lot, so he  _ really _ wanted to make Ave's middle name ‘Karloff,’ but I wouldn’t let him.”

“Funny.”

“Very. He was so upset at me after I told him no.” Ave’s mother started to laugh heartily at the memory, thinking. “God, I had this child in this hospital, y’know.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah. This one was a  _ bitch _ to get out, I swear. He wouldn’t cry, though, I had to flick his foot for about two minutes.” The nurse laughed. “Yeah, he was a creepy baby. All skinny and self-aware. Tiny, tiny, kid.”

“Does his dad know?” She shook her head.

“Dead.” The nurse was very silent for a moment, and Ave’s mother knew she had probably been  _ way _ too blunt for the public’s taste. She had completely forgotten where she was, and she usually knew how to switch from personal to public, but she blamed her mistake on her emotions.

“Are you gonna be okay?” the nurse asked.

“Sorry,” she said, sighing. “My emotions’re all...whatever. Yes, thank you.” The nurse nodded and left the room, which at that point, Ave’s mother looked at Ave. “I hate you sometimes, y’know. I was in the middle of making you soup at home.” Of course, he couldn’t hear his mother talking, but she pretended he could. “It was potato soup, too. I can’t believe you’d  _ ever _ give up potato soup.”

Jesus, it was getting  _ harder  _ and  _ harder  _ to pretend at this point.

“God, Ave, just...,” she said, and she had to let herself cry. “Just wake the  _ fuck  _ up.”

It wouldn’t be for another forty-two minutes until her wish was granted.


	11. Chapter 11

Liam’s entire world seemed to have broken down in a matter of  _ minutes. _ And he didn’t know  _ why  _ it felt that way, but as he carried a practically dying body to his house, he couldn’t help but feel as if everything was just  _ falling apart. _

As Liam broke through into his house and his father saw him, breathing hard and holding his friend in his arms with a look of complete desperation, Liam didn’t really have to say anything for him to call for help. And Liam just waited there with his friend in his arms, he just  _ waited. _

This just... _ wasn’t fair. _ Why wasn’t it  _ fair  _ to him? Wouldn’t it be unfair to his friend in his arms? Unfair to  _ die,  _ unfair to just leave the world as a teenager, never experiencing... _ anything? _

Liam couldn’t help but feel like he was being attacked, but he wasn’t. At least, not by his own mind. The body in his arms had been attacked by its own  _ thoughts,  _ its own  _ ideas  _ and  _ feelings  _ and  _ urges.  _ Was it  _ Liam’s  _ fault? Did  _ Liam  _ let this happen?

He did. Liam should’ve been with his friend. He should’ve gotten to the house sooner. He should’ve  _ been  _ there. But now he brought back a body instead of his guitar and possibly a person he wanted to spend more time with. But he was left with  _ this.  _ This  _ pain. _

An ambulance took him with the body. They asked him what happened, and Liam could only tell them that he didn’t know, because he  _ didn’t.  _ Whatever his friend had done to become nearly lifeless and limp, he couldn’t ever  _ guess. _ All he knew that they were battling themselves, and that just wasn’t... _ fair.  _ To say it wasn’t right didn’t seem  _ accurate.  _ It wasn’t  _ fair  _ to them. To the  _ world.  _ To  _ Liam. _

It was his fault, it  _ was.  _ It  _ had  _ to be. If not his, then who? Someone had to be blamed, something had to be in the wrong. But saying his friend’s mind was to blame was saying that they, as a person, were to  _ blame.  _ And that wasn’t right, was it? Was that to blame?

No, not the mind. The mind was not to blame. Something else. Someone  _ else. _

And the only person he could find to blame was  _ himself.  _ Liam kept blaming himself, even after he was pushed out, even after he was told to go away. He blamed  _ himself  _ for letting them fall deep into whatever he had started, to let them just  _ become  _ part of Liam’s life. That was  _ his  _ fault. That was all  _ his  _ doing. That’s was why  _ he  _ was to blame.  _ He _ made them skip class,  _ he  _ made them come to his house. He  _ ruined their life _ in less than two weeks. He  _ caused all of this. _

_ It was all his fault. _

_ It was all _

_ his _

_ fault. _


	12. Chapter 12

Ave, understandably, didn’t go back home. He stayed in that hospital room for weeks, on his own request. He was wholly afraid to even open his eyes most days. His mom came to see him. The doctors and nurses checked on him constantly. He just stayed in bed for nearly a month. The only way he was going to be kicked out of the room was if he showed any signs of getting better.

Yeah. That  _ wasn’t  _ happening. The only signs he showed was him getting  _ worse.  _ Soon, he would be admitted to a mental institution, away from people, tied up so his mind couldn’t control his body. Given more and more pills, given more and more therapy, given  _ everything  _ he would need and yet he knew it would make  _ no  _ difference. He’d be no different let loose compared to being locked up. But he’d rather be locked up than let loose. At least then, he’d be able to let his mind kill him in peace.

He could never pinpoint when his mind started to turn against him. Not when his dad died, he knew that much. Not when he started to take medication. Not when he changed his outlook on life. He couldn’t find a  _ single  _ reason for his mind to be so  _ fucked up.  _ That was what probably made his whole life seem  _ unfair. _

He missed his dad. He missed the remarks and the jokes and the love and the TV and the dinner and... Jesus  _ Christ,  _ he missed him. Fuck, he missed him so much, why did he miss him so much  _ now?  _ What was the reason for that?

Was it because he thought he had been talking to him? Was it just that time of the year, what the  _ fuck  _ was it? Was he even more fucking  _ messed up _ than before? Fuck, he missed him.

He missed him so much. He missed him so  _ fucking much. He missed him so fucking much. _

_ So fucking much, he missed him. _

“Dad, I miss you. I miss you, I miss you, I love you, I fucking  _ miss you.” _

He missed him so fucking much.

“I miss you so  _ fucking much. I miss you!” _

 

_ “Dad, I miss you so much.” _

_ “Dad, come back.” _

_ “Dad, I love you, I miss you, come back.” _

_ “Dad, please.” _

_ “Liam, please. I miss you. Liam come back, I miss you.” _

 

_ “Just come back.” _

 

_ Please, just come back. Come back, please. I miss you. Come back, just come back. I love you, I miss you. Come back. Please. _


	13. TLS - SIAFB - YAY - end

Integration back into the real world was a strange feeling. Being in a bed for almost a month left a person feeling very, very fargone. Finally standing and walking further than the bathroom felt like walking for the first time again, except that everything was vivid and there was no graceful cheer.

Ave was absolutely  _ not  _ ready for anything new. But he was forced to walk out of the hospital without further argument. His mother had put up with her son being self-bedridden, and now she dragged him away from the hospital with his papers in one hand and his own in her other.

He  _ hated  _ this.

As soon as they made it home, he made it a first priority to go to his room.

“Hey,” a voice said. He turned to face his mom who was walking towards him. “I love you.” She gave him a warm hug. He didn’t... _ feel _ anything. After she pulled away, Ave sped from her, away from anything that could make him  _ feel.  _ He wasn’t yet ready to  _ feel. _

He stepped into the bathroom. The medicine cabinet was locked with a padlock. He remembered when he passed the kitchen that the knife drawer had been locked, too. Clearly, his mom was taking  _ extreme  _ precaution to keep him from killing himself in the house. He wasn’t sure how far she would take this kind of lockdown. She would probably only take it until he agreed to see someone. Something he forced her to mark ‘no’ on the papers.

He didn’t  _ need  _ a therapist, or a counselour, or a psychologist. They would all say the same thing. Ave is depressed, Ave is suicidal, Ave has self-issues. He already  _ knew,  _ he didn’t need some  _ doctor  _ to tell him what he already knew, what  _ everyone  _ already knew. That was just  _ stupid. _

He was just  _ stupid. _

Thinking now, looking at himself in the mirror, he knew he wasn’t ready to kill himself. That one day had just been an impulse, a quick  _ decision  _ in the heat of the moment. Of course, he wouldn’t go so far as to say that this depression was an impulse, that all this hate was just an  _ impulse. _

_ That  _ was a big, fat, fucking  _ lie. _

Now that he was thinking of impulse, everything in his life was usually an impulse. The day he shaved his hair was an impulse. Smoking was an impulse, too.

Was Liam an impulse?

He felt okay thinking about Liam now. If someone had even  _ mentioned _ his name a week ago, tears would have burst from his eyes. He felt okay about it now. Maybe it was because he was surrounded by a different shade of white wall, that now, there were no people checking on him. He was a bit freer, and that seemed to  _ cure _ his emotion on Liam. It seemed to cure a  _ lot  _ of things.

And it was strange to find that as someone knocked on the bathroom door, the cure was suddenly gone.

“Someone’s here,” was all his mom said before her footsteps faded off. She didn’t bother to say who, but then again, she probably didn’t  _ need  _ to.

Ave just stared at himself in the mirror. A few minutes passed. Then a few more. A bit longer. How long had he been staring at himself now?

Clearly, long enough for someone to knock on the door again.

“Hello?” a voice came through. Ave blinked. Blinked again. If he blinked enough times, would he blink out of existence? “Ave, are you in here?” Ave kept blinking. His eyes went out of focus. He closed his eyes as the door opened. He refused to open them and face the fate. Was it even fate?

What the  _ fuck  _ was his life anymore?

“Get out,” Ave said, quietly but clearly. The voice didn’t even respond. The footsteps simply walked away, down the stairs. “Dad, I told you I don’t  _ need _ anybody.” Whether or not that was true, that he really  _ had _ been asleep for four years and this was all a comatose dream, he didn’t care. He  _ told _ him, he told his dad he didn’t need anyone, that he had him. All his problems went to him.

So when the front door closed, he felt better.

“Mom, can I go on a walk?” he asked when he went downstairs. She sighed, looking up from her book.

“Where?” she asked, standing up. “I’ll go with you.”

“To see Dad.” She paused in her movements.

“Sure,” she replied. “But not there. Just to the grave.” Ave nodded. “We’ll drive.” He nodded again.

“Can we stop for flowers or something?” She nodded.

He knew she hated thinking about his dad. She  _ hated _ thinking about Ave ever having a father of any kind. The day in the hospital was a fluke. Thinking about his dad with a level head just wasn’t a very nice thought.

As Ave’s mom went to start the car, he waited in the house for a few moments. He hadn’t seen his father’s grave for a few years. The house was just...different. The house was  _ real.  _ The grave was just...a stone. With his name on it. That wasn’t  _ real. _

Ave went to his room and grabbed his dad’s fingerless gloves he had been wearing for days now, slipping them on and then stepping out of the house.

And then seeing someone he wasn’t expecting.

“Hi,” Liam said, quietly, looking down at the cake he was holding. “Uh... My mom said I had to bring it, but if you’re going somewhere, I can bring it later or someth-.”

“No, that’s okay,” Ave interrupted, walking over to take it from Liam and going to set in the kitchen. As he stepped back out, his mom was looking curiously at Liam, refraining from judging him. An unusual change of pace for her.

“Where’re you going?” Liam asked.

“To see my dad,” Ave replied, then stopped. “Um, he’s... We’re going to see his...grave, actually. Not him.” Liam blinked a couple times. If  _ that  _ was too much to take in, would it be wrong for Ave to ask the next question?

“Oh, I...,” Liam began. “‘m sorry.”

“No, it happened a way long time ago, it’s okay. You can...” Ave swallowed a bit of fear, knowing it was too much to ask. “You can come. If you want. We’re stopping by the store to get flowers and stuff, so if you wanted to get something, then...” By the end of his words, he knew immediately it was probably too much to ask. Too much to take in. 

“Uh... Do you want me to?” Liam ended up asking. Ave nodded without thought. “Then... Yeah. I’ll...come with you.” Ave nodded to the car and went to lock the front door of his house before he joined Liam in the backseat. His mom said nothing, simply drove off to the store.

Ave couldn’t tell whether or not she minded, but then again, he didn’t  _ care _ what she thought.

Ave’s mom let him and Liam both get candy, and let them pick out their own flowers, Liam insisting he wanted to out of respect. The bouquets lay in their laps as they drove off to the cemetery, drove off to see  _ dead _ things,  _ buried _ things with stone atop dirt.

To Ave, it just wasn’t the  _ same _ as the house, but it was all his mom could muster.

“Why don’t you guys go on, then?” Ave’s mom said, stopping outside the gate. “I’m just... I’ll be nearby.” Ave sighed and stepped out of the car, Liam following him. Liam didn’t blame her. How could you blame someone for not wanting to feel that  _ pain  _ again?

“C’mon,” Ave said, flowers in one hand, candy in another. Liam followed in the same regards, careful not to step on other graves, though it seemed Ave wasn’t very careful.

Liam could tell Ave had changed. Whether or not it was because of his... Well, he didn’t want to  _ think _ about it too much. But it was strange to watch Ave be  _ careless. _ Of all things he knew, Ave probably cared too  _ much. _

“Here,” Ave said, pausing. “This is...my dad’s grave.” He sat and dropped the flowers unceremoniously next to the stone. He sighed. “This was  _ stupid.” _

“What d’you mean?” Liam asked quietly as he sat down, looking over the stone and putting down his own flowers carefully. “It’s...,” he paused, looking for the right words, “It’s...your dad.”

_ “No,  _ I mean...,” Ave said, then groaned and leaned against the headstone. “This isn’t my dad, this’ just... It’s just his  _ body.  _ It’s not him.” Liam tried his hardest not to laugh just a little, but eventually let a grin escape. “See? It’s not even  _ sad.” _

“No, it’s just...,” Liam said, his smile fading. “I mean, I don’t understand your point.” Ave didn’t say anything. It was as if it would be  _ impossible  _ for Liam to understand what he even meant. Of course this wasn’t his  _ dad.  _ This was just a  _ body.  _ A body isn’t enough to be his dad.

A body isn’t enough to be  _ anyone. _

“Y’know how my dad died?” Ave asked suddenly, after a long, arduous silence, his gaze facing the candy in his hands.

“No,” Liam replied simply. “Uh... Do you wanna tell me?” Ave shrugged as he opened his chocolate bar and took a bite, then swallowed.

“My dad liked gardening,” Ave said, and Liam faced him to listen. “Like, he really  _ loved  _ gardening. People thought he was weird. But he was cool. And so, we were all home. I had... I asked him to get me sushi on his way home. He said it was gross to eat raw fish. We got into it a little, but jokingly, y’know, talked for a bit. And then he goes outside to garden. He grew a  _ bunch _ of food, so we didn’t have to buy a bunch of things, and my mom made bread from scratch a lot, too. She doesn’t...anymore, but, I mean...

“Anyways, he, uh... He was outside, just watering his plants and stuff, and Mom was making dinner. Breakfast-dinner, y’know. I sat down with her, ‘cause my dad didn’t like to leave his plants alone after he’d already started watering ‘em. And we just ate. We ate  _ all _ our dinner, and his was just... _ sitting  _ there. We didn’t even go get him.

“So, Mom went to look, and... Surprise. He had a heart attack. And we didn’t even hear him because we were too busy eating...fucking  _ dinner.”  _ Ave sighed. “We took him to the hospital and it turned out that he had... He was already dead by the time we found him. He died in the garden. The fucking  _ garden. _

“We go back home, and the fucking house is in  _ flames.  _ And not, like, a little fire in the kitchen. We were gone for a couple hours, and when we got back, the stove started a fire and spread almost  _ everywhere. _ It barely made it to my room, but it didn’t get as high as the attic, so we were able to get everything we wanted from there. But the rest of the house was toast.” Ave blinked.

“Is that...,” Liam asked after a few moments, but Ave nodded before he even finished his sentence.

“It got to the garden,” Ave finally said, with a small crack in his voice. “I mean, it didn’t get anywhere else outside but the  _ garden.  _ What kind of fucking _ joke  _ is  _ that?” _ Ave sniffed, tears at his eyes. “The tomatoes were ashes, the fucking... All of his favourite flowers, just... _ gone. _ His...” Ave tried not to cry. “His  _ Dream Tree  _ got caught in the flames and died. Do you know what the fucking  _ Dream Tree  _ is?” Liam wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say then.

“What’s the Dream Tree?” Liam asked tentatively. Ave blinked away the tears, trying to keep himself from bawling.

“It’s...,” Ave tried, then stopped before continuing, gaining back his sense. “The Dream Tree was this... It was this tree that used to be outside this theatre my parents worked at. They met there, at the Dream. And then, the tree kind of...wilted away, but it left behind some seeds and my dad took one. He grew it for, like, three fucking years, from the original Dream Tree. And it fucking  _ burned  _ in a house fire.” Ave sniffed again. “That’s fucking  _ cruel,  _ y’know. Burning a fucking  _ Dream Tree  _ is cruel. Kill my dad, sure, but don’t kill the Dream Tree. But look what happened.” Ave gestured to the grave beneath him. “They took ‘em both.”

There wasn’t anything left in Ave then. Nothing left to say, to cry, to do, to think, to be. Nothing,  _ nothing  _ left.

“My mom won’t bake anymore,” Ave said quietly. “She won’t garden, she won’t go to movies, she’ll just read and read and read until she’s  _ dead,  _ but  _ I _ still visit my dad at the house because  _ I  _ still want him to be part of  _ my _ life. But  _ she  _ doesn’t fucking  _ want _ him to. He’s still a part of  _ my _ life, and I can’t fucking  _ believe _ she won’t even see his  _ grave.  _ That’s fucking  _ bullshit.” _

Liam just sat listening, watching the chocolate melt in Ave’s hands, the breeze run through the flowers’ petals, the tears fall, the  _ words _ , the  _ emotions _ . He just  _ watched _ , because he didn’t know if Ave wanted him to ever be a  _ part  _ of this... This  _ feeling. _

Liam hadn’t lost someone like his dad. He had a full family, and Ave...just had no one. Not even his  _ mom  _ cared, it seemed. Maybe... Maybe Liam was all Ave thought  _ cared  _ about  _ anything  _ he had to say.

“Hey,” Liam said after a long silence, after nothing for too long. “Um... I think... I think your dad’s really cool. Or... I mean, he was...really cool.” Ave nodded.

“Thanks,” Ave said. “For coming, I mean. I just... Whenever I try to get my mom to come, she never... She doesn’t even leave the car, she just parks somewhere and cries. The least she could do is cry  _ here  _ so I knew she  _ cared _ enough.” Ave moved to take a bite of his chocolate again, furrowing his brows when he noticed how soft the bar had gotten.

“Yeah, it... It melted.” Ave laughed.

“What with all my fuckin’ crying, of  _ course _ it did.” Ave clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction. “Man, and it was  _ dark  _ chocolate, too. I got it specific.” Liam looked down and opened his fruity candy, motioning the bag to Ave.

“Here, mine hasn’t been opened yet,” he said, and Ave reached his hand to grab an orange candy and pop it into his mouth before taking a bite of soggy chocolate and chuckling.

“Tastes like... Orange chocolate, kind of.” Liam laughed and ate his own candy. “Here, try it. I  _ swear,  _ it tastes like flavoured chocolate.” Ave urged his candy bar to Liam, who shook his head.

“No, no, I don’t like the dark kind.” Ave widened his eyes, to which Liam shook his head and pushed one of Ave’s feet with his own. “Man, you  _ know  _ what I meant-”

“No, I  _ know,  _ but... I mean... Man, dark chocolate is the  _ best  _ kind, y’know. Just  _ try  _ it. C’mon.” Ave waved the bar in Liam’s face.

“Okay,  _ okay! _ I’ll try it.  _ Once.”  _ Liam popped a red candy and then took a bite of chocolate from Ave’s hand, chewing and mixing it in his mouth for a moment before laughing.

“Right? Flavoured chocolate, c’mon.”

“Okay, okay, it  _ does  _ taste...fruity, but, I mean,  _ Jesus,  _ it’s rich.” Ave grinned.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s the  _ best  _ chocolate.” Liam shook his head in disbelief as Ave finished it off and went to lay down. After a little bit, Liam decided to lay down next to him. He wasn’t sure why it felt nice to just lay down, despite it being a grave he was lying  _ on,  _ but somehow, what Ave had said  _ must  _ be true. A grave is nothing more, it’s...the things that  _ represent  _ them that matter. If a grave had represented Ave’s dad, it’d be a different story, he knew.

But flowers represented him. Flowers and sushi and breakfast and clients and houses and cursing.  _ Those  _ meant something. A piece of stone and a coffin filled with a lifeless, decaying body wasn't... _ enough.  _ That wasn’t  _ enough  _ to mean anything but how he died. And how he  _ died  _ was never important, it was what he  _ did. _

“Y’know, thinking about it now,” Ave began, “I think he'd be pissed if we always went to his grave to talk to ‘im.” Liam chuckled.

“Why?” Liam replied, confused.

“Because he probably knows the house better than here, so why would he hang out  _ here? _ At least in the house, he can  _ do  _ stuff. He probably waters  _ ghost  _ flowers in the yard now.” Liam laughed, Ave joining him. Laughing felt good. Laughing felt  _ normal.  _ Even if he was laughing about his dead dad, laughing felt  _ better _ than anything else.

“How come they don’t renovate the house?” Liam asked. Ave shrugged as much as he could, now watching clouds pass by, not finding any shapes.

“I dunno,” he sighed. “They said they were gonna, but they never did. They probably  _ know  _ a ghost lives there.” It went silent for a few long moments. “Hey.”

“What?” Ave reached out a hand to grab Liam’s, looking over.

“Thanks.” Liam chuckled, unsure.

“Uh... You’re welcome?” Ave laughed.

“You can play guitar really well,” he said, and after another silence, he spoke, “That day, when you found me, I...downed a bunch of my mom's antidepressants and went to the house. It was impulse, I wasn’t really...expecting you.” Liam blinked.

“You scared me,” Liam said. “I thought that when I was carrying you to my house, you were already... You were dead already.” Ave sighed.

“No, I... I’m depressed, yeah, but... Not  _ dead. _ Not really  _ wanting _ to die, just... That day wasn’t easy on me.”

“How come?” Ave shrugged again.

“Who fuckin’ knows, y’know? I got up days, I got down days, and it was just...a down day. But I  _ really _ liked the song.”

“Pink Floyd is awesome, I told you,” Liam pointed out, making Ave smile.

“They’re okay,” Ave said, knowing it would send Liam a  _ little _ off his edge.

“They’re beautiful, y’know? Just... Y’know, I’m gonna make you listen to ‘em.  _ All _ of ‘em.”

“All of what?”

“All their  _ music,  _ dude!”

“No! I just like the  _ one _ song, okay? Not much more than that.”

“Then you are  _ missing out!  _ Can I get your mom to take us to my house?” Ave crinkled his eyes in half confusion, half amusement.

“I don’t know,” Ave ended up laughing. “She’s got me on lockdown.”

“I  _ promise  _ my parents’ll be home. We’ll just listen to music, nothing else.”

“Oh, no tree this time?”

“No. I mean, unless you want to-”

“No, no, no.” Ave sat up with a grunt and a laugh. “I’ve  _ learned _ my lesson.”

“What lesson?”

“That you’re  _ crazy.” _ Liam sat up then and looked over at Ave. “What?” Liam chuckled. “Oh, okay.” He laughed as he watched Liam lean in dramatically, lips puckered like a cartoon.

“C’mon,” Liam said, lips still puckered. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” Ave pushed his face back.

“No, no, be  _ normal!”  _ Liam stopped and relaxed his face.

“Okay, like this?” Liam then made his face as stoic and crazed as possible and leaned forward, not moving an inch of his face.

“Jesus  _ Christ,  _ that’s  _ terrifying!”  _ Ave exclaimed, scooting away from the frankly disturbing monster. Liam laughed as he relaxed again, earning himself a punch in the arm.

“Sorry, sorry, okay, normal,” he said, pulling at Ave’s arm and into a kiss, a normal kiss, one that didn’t scare away children or garnered a sitcom laugh track. Just normal.

“Okay,” Ave interrupted the kiss to stand up, pulling Liam along with him. “Let’s go.”

“Are we gonna ask to go to my house?” Liam asked as he was pulled along.

_ “Yes,  _ we will.”

After a few moments, however, Ave stopped in his tracks.

“What?” Liam asked. “We didn’t leave anything there, did we?” Ave let go of Liam’s arm and ran back to the grave, Liam watching intently. He hoped he  _ hadn’t  _ left any garbage laying around. It was rude enough to step all over the graves, even more rude to defile the cemetery.

He watched as Ave jogged back, both his and Liam’s flowers in his hands.

“Ave, what’re you doing?” he asked, looking at each bouquet.

“We’ll put ‘em in some water,” Ave said, catching his breath. “It’s better than...letting ‘em die just ‘cause.” Liam let out a small, brief chuckle as Ave took his arm again, leading him to the car that held his crying mother. Leading him away from a grave.

Just...leading him somewhere  _ better. _

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you felt something.  
> Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kingofhearts709  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/kingofhearts709  
> CuriousCat: https://curiouscat.me/KingOfHearts709


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